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"We agreed we would come and go," Asterion answered, his lower, smoother tone just barely clear.
"Fine. You've come. And so I will go."
"She needs you. I've seen the pair of you—"
Conall scoffed. "Oh, I'm well aware you've seen us."
I tiptoed down to the balcony, remaining in the shadowed alcove of the stairs to listen. They were not in the main open space of the great hall, but I recognized the warm flicking firelight of a smaller study than Laszlo's.
"If you spent less timewatchingand more time speaking to her, you'd be less eager to run so quickly," Conall snapped.
"I am noteager,don't be absurd. You…you know what I am resisting."
"You can't tell me you plan to go to the East Indies." There was a pause, and then the werewolf cursed.
"I suppose it's not practical," Asterion muttered.
I tipped my head and searched around the castle. It was improbable that I should hear them so clearly, even when there was not a single other sound in the vast space, but the conversation circled me, and Iwantedto hear it. The castle wasgiftingme the ability to spy, another piece of the strange and wonderful magic of this place.
Asterion cleared his throat and continued. "Still, I will go back to London. Ask who we might reach in the east. Find a witch who can arrange a more immediate communication."
"I could do the same. I am more charming than you," Conall joked, earning a grunt. "Admit to me you're avoiding Evanthia."
"Don't youwantto stay?" Asterion snapped, a chair screeching its heels over stone. "I can still smell you on her. Barely."
"Of course I do, but not so you can position us about to your liking. To your preferredavoidanceof the woman. I am… I do want to be what she needs, but IknowI am not all of it. Not enough all at once," Conall said.
"How often do you still have night terrors?" Asterion asked, losing the snarl of his tone.
"Not as often as she does, I expect. And she has better reason—"
"War haunts us all; even Hunter knows its trauma. No one looks forward to what comes with a rise against Birsha. You're too hard on yourself. Youwillbe what she needs. Or…or Hywel, if his intention is sincere."
"Anyone but you?" Conall bit out.
There was a settling quiet. My fingertips traced over the rough edges and grooves of the stone wall.
"I am not the hero," Asterion said, drawing me back to them. "I was created out of punishment, born out of spite, and raised to terrorize."
My brow furrowed. I knew the minotaur's story, trapped in the labyrinth, killing those who threatened the king who'd captured him.
"You've paid your penance," Conall said lightly.
"If Evanthia wants me, she will choose me."
"Andonlyyou?" Conall asked with a soft growl. Asterion grunted in answer. "Not if you aren'there. You are miserable. And a fool."
"And I will leave by first light in the morning," Asterion announced.
Boots stepped over stone, scuffed against carpet, and across the shadows of the floor stretched the shadow of two broad horns. Asterion's steps echoed but the castle played tricks on us both, and his path didn't cross mine, didn't bring him out to the square balcony I hid on.
"I can smell you," Conall said softly, startling me as I held my breath in the dark.
His own shadow appeared on the floor, but he moved steadily to the center of the hall and I tiptoed out of the alcove and to the bannister, the pair of us facing one another, his face lifted toward mine.
"Come down,mo chroí," Conall whispered when I refused to speak first.
I found the stairs down and he met me in the dark nook at their base, his gaze turned away, like he was waiting for Asterion to reappear.
